


Bunny

by Saheeba



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Creepy Ben Solo, Demon Kylo Ren, Demonic Possession, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Masturbation, Foster Care, Loss of Virginity, Possession, Sleep Paralysis, Sort Of, foster kid Rey, lonely rey, my apologies to Bazine defenders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 11:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saheeba/pseuds/Saheeba
Summary: Rey knows that the Netal household is probably her last stop before the system gives her the finger so she does what she can to prepare. Unfortunately that isn't much. A lifetime of loneliness has left the sixteen year old with no illusions as to the writing on the wall and she spends her days quietly existing, avoiding her snobby foster sister, Bazine, and battling long term sleep paralysis issues that have only gotten worse.It all might have been manageable had Bazine not brought home her new boyfriend.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 31
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep paralysis is when, during waking up or falling asleep, a person is aware but unable to move or speak. During an episode, one may hallucinate (hear, feel, or see things that are not there), which often results in fear. Episodes generally last less than a couple of minutes. It may occur as a single episode or be recurrent.
> 
> ~Wikipedia
> 
> Just a (very) late little something for the spooky season. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

  
  


She got home later than usual that night, well past nine. A normal routine for Rey on a weekday was wake up, go to school, munch on a scone at Starbucks, then jet off to the library where she could waste away in peace and quiet. It was nice because the natural silence of the library helped Rey pretend that her solitude was inevitable. Can’t very well talk to people if you’re in a library. 

  
  


Today she had fallen asleep and was woken by the librarian at closing time. The whole thing was embarrassing and had included noticeable drool stain on the book she used as a pillow. Not that she was eager to get home where there was only Bazine for company. Her foster parents weren’t much but they were decent enough and “sister’s” dislike of her was somewhat tempered in their presence. Just her luck that they were out of town and she stuck with their college drop out of a daughter.

  
  


Rey unleashed a mighty yawn, testimony to her worsening sleep, the sleep paralysis becoming wearisomely more frequent. Still, better than going to bed on an empty stomach. “Hello?” Rey called when she stepped into the house, freeing her head of its warm wooly hat and tossing her hair. Jen and Mike were both gone for five days and Bazine loved to go out so she thought nothing of it when silence greeted back. It was more for her own benefit than anything else; With any luck Bazine was at one of her parties and she had the whole place to herself. 

  
  


Smiling and yawning at the same time Rey removed her shoes and wandered to the kitchen. A decent middle class home, there was nonetheless always a lingering chill that pervaded the Netal abode, matching its occupants, that seemed to only ever bother her. Luckily she had a space heater in her bedroom that she could turn to hot or cool as she liked. She chalked it up to having spent most of her life in California. Plus the weather was changing, the first fall she would spend with the Netal’s. Perhaps one more after that and then it was  _ off you go, out with you into the real world, see ya sucker _ as far as the system was concerned. 

  
  


Rey wondered if anyone would care that she was effectively told to piss off the moment she turned eighteen. Probably not. Maybe Finn. The thought brought a tiny bit of fullness back to her heart. Finn from biology. He and his girlfriend were nice to her. And maybe this time she’d get settled enough to properly make friends. 

  
  


It was a wishful little hypothetical.

  
  


Besides, she assured herself as she filled a plastic cup with cool water and took a menial sip, the situation wasn’t all hopeless. She had some work experience, albeit mostly involuntary. More experience than Bazine probably. Maybe her folks didn’t let her just like they didn’t allow Rey to work at the nearby Menchies despite pleas to the contrary. The more work experience and income Rey had the better when she went from ward of the state to independent. 

  
  


After reheating what was left of last night’s pizza, she grabbed it along with a bag of BBQ potato chips, and retreated upstairs. She was glad that she was alone, the way someone is glad of an otherwise miserable cold because it allows them to miss school. Pleased to dispense with Bazine’s company in favor of a quiet evening of dutifully completing homework and munching potato chips. But as she passed Bazine’s door she noticed it shut tight, dim light peeking out from underneath the frame. Puzzled she stopped in front of it. That’s when she heard it: a breathless moan.

  
  


So Bazine was home after all. For a stupid second Rey thought she was hearing an expression of pain and, despite her and Bazine’s lack of regard for each other, she felt the impulse to check upon her; but then the quick successions of sounds disillusioned her. The rhythmic squeak of a mattress traveled through the air, the slippery smack of bodies; moans growing longer and more luscious, high and feminine, dulled only by the door. Rey was rooted to the spot in horror.The plastic cup squeaked in her white knuckled grasp - or perhaps that was Bazine, behind that door doing - doing - 

  
  


The pizza no longer looked so appetizing. Suddenly a groan, so slow and languorous and unmistakably male that it seemed to wrap around her and demand entrance of her body, sounded from beyond. A gasp escaped the teenager and, dropping her water, chips and pizza, she fled to the refuge of her room at the end of the hall. 

  
  


She knew. She knew what those sounds were. And she resented them deeply. They were the sounds that had issued from the laptop of the fourteen year old son of a previous foster family she had stayed with when she was twelve. At the time he must’ve thought he was home alone. She walked in on him watching porn and was rewarded with a coffee mug to her face that she only just avoided. 

  
  


It was the thing that everyone at school whispered about, that everyone except her wanted; the kind of intimacy available to all but her; the problem that awaited when she became an adult who was expected to do adult things. An ambition, a desire that she, in her paralysis, lacked. What did it matter if she couldn’t even manage friends, let alone  _ that _ ? Sex seemed to represent everything she didn’t understand, everything she both feared - and hoped - she never would. It had nothing to do with her.

  
  


Plugging in her earphones, turning up the music, Rey flung herself onto her bed, an impromptu fatigue overtaking her. The whole ordeal exasperated her like an injustice. Once the initial shock and melancholy wore off, her feelings degraded into annoyance. Really, what did she expect of Bazine? Of course she brought a guy home with no care for how Rey might feel. Seeing no other recourse but sleep, Rey undressed and put on her favorite pajamas: a light lavender dress with a white front sailor collar and a pull up hood with flopping bunny ears. 

  
  


Rey pulled up the hood and fingered one of the ears fondly. She had received it as a Christmas present when she was eleven from her first foster mother, Maz Kanata. Originally several sizes too big it now hung just above her knees. She had loved how she could pull up the hood and shut the rest of the world out. It was childish and silly on her sixteen year old self but it was the one link to the only foster parent who ever gave a damn about her. Without warning a ferocious tide of tears drowned her eye sockets. Maz probably would’ve adopted her had the old woman not died so abruptly. Shaking her head, as if she could shed the tears from her hazel eyes the way a wet dog sheds the rain from its fur, she crawled into bed and turned off the lamp. 

* * *

Rey reckoned it was two or three morning when she woke, could guess by the static silence that fills the darkened space of premature morning. She knew, without testing, that it was happening again. Sleep paralysis was a constant in her life but it was becoming worse as of late. There was nothing to do but wait it out, in hypnagogic stillness to the incessant ticking that accompanied many of the episodes. 

  
  


But there was no ticking noise tonight. Only a hum that she never heard before, opaque but strong enough to vibrate her bones. If she concentrated enough, she could almost make a melody out of it. Over her bed she watched the dark outline of a spider scuttle to a corner. Waiting, patiently, for it to be over. 

  
  


The unmistakable cackle of an opening door accompanied the appearance of a wedge of light. Rey tensed, her respiration hitching. Blinked as the wedge of light grew wider along with the creaking hinges. 

  
  


Someone was entering her room. For the first time in ages Rey’s heart took a startled plunge.  _ It’s a hallucination, dummy _ , her brain whispered to the galloping organ in her chest, eyes on the ever widening beam on her wall.  _ They’re common _ ;  _ You’ve had it before.  _ True, strictly speaking but not for years. And not like this. Never with prickling heat in her cheeks and belly and clammy cold fear perspiring on her feet and palms. Never with the sharpened acuteness of nose, twitchy like a rabbit’s, scenting piquant danger on the currents. Vestigial instincts of preservation told Rey to freeze and even if she could, she would not have moved.

  
  


Not until, within the blossoming brightness, the dark contours of a shadow outlined itself. And got bigger. And bigger. Her eyes flew from the shadow on the wall to the ambling wraith. No features but in, undeniable the shape of a person but the outline seem to flicker like a shadow made flame. It came toward her, but there were no footsteps, only the stormy wind of her breathing filing the silence. 

  
  


Evil poured from it, she felt it with every heart thump through her constricted blood vessels. Rey began to strain against the confused neurons that held her trapped. The electric beads of impulse inside her travelling on their fibrous lines fizzled out before reaching their destination, the muscles that begged for movement. The paralysis had never gone on this long. It was as if she stayed by another power entirely.

  
  


Finally it was upon her, peering down at her, and she was helpless. They were like some sick imitation of a knight kneeling by an unconscious maiden’s bedside in a tower, ready to bestow a kiss. Rey wished she was unconscious now.

  
  


**“That would not stop me from taking what I want.”**

  
  


So powerful was the urge to scream that a whimper managed to escape the paralyzed, mute girl. It spoke. The fucking thing could speak. Oh god…

  
  


**“Young sweet, you are a lonely one, aren’t you?”** The voice sounded ancient but virile, so low it was almost a rumble.  **“I heard you calling for me outside the door. You need someone to take care of you.”**

  
  


Inside the fear, a baffled indignation stirred at its words. Maybe it was the recognition of the truth that stung her to the quick. Suddenly she could discern a limb like an arm reach down to, a solid weight against her cheek exerting pressure, heated yet incorporeal. Tears welled and dripped as the shadow demon caressed her, but not it was not just terror that overflowed them. 

The entity above her paused.  **“You want to kill me,” ** it said, amusement lacing through the thunderous depths of voice.  **“Naughty little girl,” ** it laughed softly. A snap eruption of ferocity rose within her at the laugh, and for a glorious moment, it cut through the fear, through the power. “Get…” she struggled, “...out!” And with bared teeth, she jerked against the invisible hold, no longer frozen in paralysis. Invisible ropes still bound her but with enough leeway that she could thrash her shoulders and wiggle her knees and clench her fists in defiance.

  
  


The shadow drew back, the palmed pressure on her hot cheek disappearing. For a moment Rey could sense its surprise, its wonder, almost palpable; the hunter, however briefly, outwitted by the prey. But then that energy vanished and the darkness loomed over her and an unnatural stillness overcame her oppressive as a coffin in a crypt. A grip so great that even her eyes ceased to produce tears.

  
  


**“It is you”** it purred. There was a new vibrancy in the formerly remote voice, a new warmth that scared her, that recalled the humiliating heated noises from Bazine’s room. **“So young, so powerful and so...****_delicious_****.” **The voice curled around the last word with a sybaritic sibilance that struck something mysterious and unexpected within the lachrymose girl. **“Little rabbit’s need their rest. Sleep, sweet girl. I’ll see you again soon.” **The shadow waved its arm like limb above her and instantly Rey felt her body relax into weariness.

  
  


_ No _ , she thought feebly, knowing what was coming, but already her lids were sliding shut and the fight draining from the rest of her…

* * *

Morning dawned, awakening with the frustration of an unfinished dream and the lingering panic of half conquered night terrors, Rey pulled her hood over her tousled ligneous hair and curled in on herself, immersed in an inarticulate perturbance. Clips and snippets, more of feeling than of memory, was all that remained to Rey as she strained to recall what upset her. A bad dream? No, it had been more real than that, a mortifying immobility haunted by evil. One of her episodes, but particularly bad this time. 

  
  


Tiptoeing her way to the bathroom - a custom she picked up from trying to avoid a grumpy and often hungover Bazine - Rey splashed her face as if to wash the nightmare away and gazed at her tired self in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were deeper than usual and her expression was grim but other than that no signs of the night’s trials marred her features. The spritely pixels that gathered on the length of her razor straight nose and dispersed across puppyish cheeks were still in their place, the rounded almonds of her hazelnut eyes stared back and the high forehead and coral lips pursed contemplatively. 

Perhaps she should tell Jen or Mike that her sleep paralysis was worsening. She struck the notion from her mind almost immediately. The last thing she wanted to hassle with was a doctor’s visit, where a complete stranger thinks they’re entitled to know everything about someone just because they know the person’s weight and date of birth.

  
  


A whiney growl issued from the young girl’s stomach in cantankerous reminder of her missed meal last night. If there was one thing Rey couldn’t abide by it was an empty stomach. Passing by Bazine’s on the way downstairs she did a double take. There was no mess from her spilt meal to navigate around. The door to the bedroom was open, though no one was inside, and the space before it where she had dropped her food and drink was spick and span.

  
  


There’s a novelty: Bazine cleaning up. Rey was frankly shocked that she hadn’t stomped in during the night and demanded she do away with her mess. Then again she was probably preoccupied. Rey wrinkled her nose. Perhaps her boy toy had generously offered to sweep it away on his way out that morning. 

  
  


She could hear Bazine in the living room watching what sounded like a made the news as she walked to the kitchen to make a toasted butter and jelly bagel and a bowl of cereal.

  
  


Humming lightly Rey felt her spirits lift ever so. There was a joy in food preparation for the lonely orphan, genius chef though she was not. The simple satisfaction in creating something and putting it to good use. She chalked it up to her early years, eight of her life spent with a neglectful man named Unkar in what amounted to a glorified slum. He had loved withholding food from her. 

  
  


Abolishing the jammed bagel right there in the kitchen in few too many bites, Rey pulled up her hood, picked up her cereal and headed for the living room to park herself in front of the TV. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her pajamas and knew Bazine would scoff at her for wearing such a childish thing but Rey was determined not to care. 

  
  


She was on the verge of shoveling some frosted mini wheats when she entered the room and saw the couch monopolized by a figure too big and too masculine to be her foster sister.

  
  


It was a man. A man she didn’t know. 

  
  


The man dragged his attention from the television onto her and suddenly Rey found herself pinned by eyes so dark it was like spiralling into midnight. “Hello,” he said with a slight smile, his mouth obscenely long in width and lips ruddy as a beast freshly feasted upon its kill. “The girl I’ve heard so much about. Baz told me her parents were fostering.”

  
  


“Who are  _ you _ ?” she blurted, not caring that it was rude. Not while the man with a peculiar long face and shoulder length feathery black hair stared at her. Though his deep set eyes remained on her face the most roiling sensation of being examined pervaded her entire body, from head to toe, so that she was hyper aware of the thinness of her childish frock, the short length that fell above her knobby knees, the silly rabbit ears dangling at the sides of her head and the dollop of jelly that stuck at the corner of her mouth. 

  
  


Nervously she swiped the berry sweet drop with a timid lick and swallowed hard when she saw the stranger’s avid gaze following the movement. “I’m a friend of your sister’s.”

  
  


“Bazine is  _ not _ my sister!”

  
  


The subtle smile curled into a smirk. The man leaned back and took stock of her, this time letting his eyes roam in a denuding perusal that climbed all over her. “Well, obviously not,” he replied, amused. “People don’t have little bunny rabbits for siblings.” 

  
  


Rey glared, hand tightening on her bowl of cereal, by now too soggy to eat. Primal fear stirred, spurring the indignation she always deployed both as armor and weapon in moments of self preservation. 

  
  


“I’m sorry,” said the stranger abruptly, smirk dissipating and turning thoughtful. “I didn’t mean to scare you, you know.”  _ Liar _ , she thought. He rose then and it was as if witnessing a tree unfolding. From a solid trunk, the definitional mass of which was evident in the steely strain of pectorals and massive shoulders against his mild red button up, extended long, heavy limbs that with each graceful step of his massive tread and bludgeoning sway of sinew arm seemed to weigh the air itself down. 

  
  


By the time he came to a stop in front of her, Rey was short and shallow. The TV was a soft static in the background. “I’m Ben, Ben Solo” he said, his voice as vast and resonant as a nether cave. Up close she could discern the particularities of his features better. Pale with odd craggy curves, nose an ennobled outcrop prominent upon his steep face. A generous sprinkling of speckles and moles, different from her own freckles, haphazardly dotted his face and neck. Maybe mid twenties.

He’s ugly, she decided. 

  
  


“I’m Rey,” she forced herself to say. He was at least a head and a half taller than her. Unable to sustain contact she dropped her eyes to his chest where she saw several buttons straining against the obvious brawn that they contained. 

  
  


A hand appeared in her purview and grasped her bowl, gently extricating it from her. She let him. Maybe food was all he wanted. Maybe he’d leave her alone after this. “Your cereal’s gone soggy,” he commented quietly. “I’ll get you some more.” He turned and padded off to the kitchen. 

  
  


Several things occurred to Rey at once: first that this was undoubtedly the same man who had done disgusting things with Bazine last night, and second that he seemed to know his way around the house. “Where’s Bazine?” she croaked after a moment’s silence in which the shutting of the cabinet and refrigerator door was all there was.

  
  


“She went out,” his voice boomed. “To get something. Don’t worry,” he added, slyness diluting his reassuring tone, “she’ll be back soon.” Rey wasn’t sure what kept her planted. The opportunity to escape was before her. Yet nonetheless she remained where she was, only managing to move to the center of the room in some crude attempt to reclaim the space that he had polluted. 

  
  


When he reappeared no signal accompanied the arrival of his big body, not even the soft pad of a footfall, despite the heavy presence he cut. If he so chose his simian gait could become a panther’s prowl, silent and pitch dark, befitting his black mane. Rey filed the observation away, a keen reminder for her to remain alert. 

  
  


He offered the bowl to her, and, pushing her hood back, she peered at it. He’d gotten the right kind. Stepping forward, she took the bowl wordlessly, careful to avoid skin contact, but when she made to pull back she felt a tug on her roots and looked up.

  
  


Ben had taken possession of a forelock of her hair and was winding it around his finger. He gazed at it in interest, twirling the autumnal strands round and round, letting the smoothness slid along his skin, stance relaxed but eyes darkling bright. They slid from the entwined strands to the crown of her head where morning light glinted upon her hair, and finally down to her vulnerable neck where she was sure he could see the rapid wingbeat of her pulse fluttering beneath thin skin. “So this is what you got hidden under that hood,” he murmured. Suddenly he pulled on the lock of hair, like a rider tightening the reins, causing her lurch forward to him with a gasp. Curling his finger in a come hither motion he met her terrified look. “What else do have under there, little rabbit?”

  
  


She wrenched away from him a second or two before the front door opened and Bazine walked in. 

  
  


“Benny baby I got us some more weed -” Bazine’s smile dropped as she took in the tableau of the two and immediately collapsed into a scowl. “What are you doing here? Nevermind. Ben, this is Rey the foster kid, I told you about her. Rey this is my friend Ben.” The orphan said nothing, refusing to take her eyes off the man before her. “Rey, don’t be rude,” Bazine gritted, flushing. “Say hello.”

  
  


“Hello,” she said tersely. Ben smiled back, serene as can be. 

  
  


“Anyway, don’t mind her, she’ll be gone for school in a bit and she knows how to stay out of the way when she’s around. Don’t you, Rey?” 

  
  


“Yeah.” That was her cue and she took it. Brushing past Bazine, Rey hurried to dump the cereal in the food waste bin under the sink, then bounded up the stairs two at a time. Twenty five minutes later, clothes changed and backpack hoisted like a survival kit Rey crept downstairs, peering forth like an animal from the thicket. To her relief the coast seemed clear but just as she headed to the door she glimpsed in the hall the intertwined figures of Ben and Bazine in passionate embrace. 

  
  


Bazine had her arms wound around the Ben’s neck. So towering was he that even Bazine, who was slinky and tall like a model, was nigh petite compared to the man who’s thick arms were around her waist, large hands massaging her ass like dough. 

  
  


Before she knew it Ben’s eyes had snapped open and fastened on her with an intensity so piercing that she felt its stab like a spear to the heart, to the gut, to the tender place between her legs. All her breath left her at once. He broke neither the kiss with her foster sister nor the stare with her, instead groping with renewed fervor at Bazine’s backside, bearing down on her as if envigored of a second wind. Devouring the woman’s moans with his lips just as he devoured Rey with his eyes, the power so potent it was as if there were no distance, no other person between them.

  
  


Reason finally overrode instinct and in another moment Rey was out the door, slamming it behind her, uncaring if they noticed or not. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thank you so much to anyone who read, commented and left kudos on this fic! I truly appreciate it and it really does matter to me. Second, I’m so so sorry this update was a long time coming lol. I’m a slow bitch, plus TROS rekt me. It just be that way. Please forgive any weird little typos or formatting issues you might see here, I don’t have a beta writer or anything. Tbh I have no idea when I might complete the next and final chapter of this story. On top of my attention/creative issues I do have other story ideas that I may or may not want to tend to in the meantime (post-apocalypse/dystopian AU, etc.) But for now please enjoy this new chapter I managed to churn out and remember to leave a comment! 
> 
> Mind the tags ;)

* * *

School ended at two thirty and the library closed its doors at eight o’clock. Ample time for Rey to kill away from home and away from Ben and Bazine. Ample time to be reminded of how utterly alone she was.

  
  


_ “Young sweet, you are a lonely one, aren’t you?” _ Rey shook her head and attempted a renewed interest in the egg sandwich she bought at the deli for lunch. Rey could count on one hand the number of times she’d ever lost her appetite but she was losing it now.

Memory of last night’s episode was fuzzy but now and again words of searing truth intruded on her brain. 

  
  


Fuck it. Maybe she should see a doctor. Feeling the telltale prickle at the inner curve of her eyes, she set the sandwich aside and buried her head in her arms on the table, hoping that passersby would mistake her posture for sleep rather than tears.

  
  


Flights of melancholy were not exactly uncommon for the sixteen year old but usually embattled hope beat it back. On nights where she couldn’t rest or during a sleep paralysis episode she’d picture an island in a sapphire ocean, lone but warm and welcoming. And on that island...a family, friends, people whose precise features were generic and blurred, waiting to be filled in. She took comfort in that vision, peaceful possibilities where an empty stomach and an empty heart were only a tragedy told in books. 

  
  


But the years progressed and those unmarked faces remained blank. The stomach filled but the heart emptiness endured. Figures that the one dream she wanted to come true was the one that least infringed on reality; meanwhile her nightmares couldn’t stop following her into waking life. 

  
  


The sleep paralysis began when she was small. It took a couple years before anyone bothered to explain to her was parasomnia. The symptoms were more severe when she was younger: loud booms, out of body experiences, the suffocating weight of a burglar stealing into her room and pressing upon her visibly ribbed sternum. 

  
  


Age seemed to lessen the symptoms and over the years the loud booms became more like pronounced ticks, the out of body experiences less disorienting, the figures appearing less frequently or dramatically, becoming objects more of frustration than uncontrollable terror. 

  
  


Last night was an exception. If she tried hard enough she could almost remember the specter touching her. Residual fear echoed through her followed swiftly by a sort of dismissal realization that the first being to touch her in such a personal was a figment of her own mind. 

  
  


Rey rose from her table the same moment Finn and Rose passed by, holding hands. They both waved to her and continued on. Everyone who isn’t her has someone, she reflected, crumpling up her sandwich in its wrapper and tossing it into the trash. Someone to call theirs. Even stupid Bazine did. Bazine had someone to wait for her, hold her with big hands, to look at her with black furnaced eyes - 

  
  


Rey stopped, aware of what figure she was conjuring. Was she...jealous of Bazine over _ Ben Solo _? Hell no! she recoiled. The guy was a certified creep, groping Bazine right in the open, walking around like he owned the place...She shivered at the memory of his index finger winding her hair round, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. The hunter’s caress when he’s sampling the hide of a rabbit caught in his snare. 

  
  


She should tell Bazine she thought, only to shoot the consideration down as abruptly as it came up. No way Bazine would believe her. What would she even say? _ Hey Baz, big sis, your boyfriend is gross, I think he flirted with me or harassed me or something? Plus I don’t like the cut of his jib. _Rey snorted, suspecting she’d receive a reply similar to Unkar’s when she told him about her sleep paralysis. That she just wanted attention. Perhaps it wouldn’t be far from the truth.

  
  
  


The desperate prayers Rey sent were answered when she arrived home to a deserted house at well past eight o’clock. She baked a small pizza, parked herself in front of the TV, relaxed, and ate without consequence. Weekends were two-fold for her: relief from the compulsion to do her schoolwork marred by the upcoming loneliness of which she had more time to dwell on until Monday. 

  
  


Hopefully she’d never see Ben again but ominous doubt lurked in that wish. Bazine was an infrequent co-habitant, even at the times where she was supposed to be looking after her. A revolving door of a social life meant that it wasn’t the first time she’d taken a man home with her when Jen and Mike were out, but Rey had never caught Bazine mid hookup before. Nor had she ever allowed said hookup to stay the night and linger in the morning. “_ Benny baby” _, she had called him, and in such a needy way too.

  
  


Deciding to preemptively avoid Bazine’s return, Rey withdrew upstairs to her room.

  
  


It wasn’t apparent to the eye upon immediate arrival to her safe haven. Rather, as soon as Rey entered the one space of the Netal home that was hers she stopped short. Something felt...off. A heaviness permeated the air like it was holding the indentation of another person’s phantom. 

  
  


Then she noticed the bed. Left haphazardly made that morning the sheets were now smoothed out, tucked in along the corners and sides, the pillow straightened and plumped in domestic fashion. That wasn’t all - several other items seemed out of place. They were small deviations: a drawer on her dresser not quite closed, the hamper of dirty clothes moved from near the closet to the end of the bed, appearing less full and more neatly stacked than she recalled. 

  
  


When she looked through the small pile, accumulated over the course of several days, she found that yesterday’s outfit was missing including the underwear, even though she swore she threw it in that very morning. The space heater had been moved, she was sure now. A picture of her and Maz on the dresser, the only one of its kind in existence, was askew its usual placing, as if someone had picked it up to examine it and placed it back carelessly. 

  
  


Within the slightly open drawer sat her lavender bunny eared nightie, innocent as can be. It was where she’d left it when she changed her clothes before school, but... Reaching for it she unfolded and analyzed it. Nothing to the eye indicated anything amiss. Nonetheless a warning sounded in her hind brain. Compelled by some vestigial instinct she brought the outfit to her nose and inhaled deeply, senses acute. The whiff of a foreign scent teased her nose, dusky notes with a resinous twang that was most certainly _ not _ her. The polluted frock fell from her grasp. 

  
  


Someone else had been in here and now it no longer felt like her bedroom but a conquered fortress. It wasn’t just the space that had been trespassed, but her very mind, permeating her memories, pillaging her meager treasures.

  
  


Rey stood still. Her mind was in turmoil but thankfully she did not have to think hard to know who the perpetrator was, for his image rose before her clear as glass, large and looming, with beckoning fingers and a wicked smirk. Unable to stay another second she dashed downstairs.

* * *

  
  


Time marched on and Bazine was a no show. For the first time Rey began to worry for her errant foster sister, less for her safety than for her own. She was anxious to tell Bazine what she suspected, consequences be damned. But as the hours waned so did Rey’s conviction. No one had ever cared to believe what she said; Bazine, of all people, wasn’t likely to break that streak now. Besides, there was no evidence, only...intuition. 

  
  


It was almost midnight when Bazine finally came stumbling home, clearly drunk. And in the arms of Ben Solo at that. 

  
  


The twenty three year old was clinging to him when they entered, slobbering sloppy kisses on his neck. “Hello Rey,” he greeted, looking infernally sober and somehow taller than Rey recalled, despite the figure determined to drag him down to the floor for a quickie. 

  
  


The weight of his presence momentarily knocked the breath from Rey’s lungs. “What are _ you _ doing here?” she hissed. Ben quirked a brow. “Designated driver, of course,” he replied. “Right, Baz?” Without looking away he placed an affectionate kiss atop Bazine’s head. 

  
  


“Benny, ignore her,” slurred the woman in question, waving Rey off, trying to capture Ben’s red mouth. He allowed her to, as if indulging a child a treat. “Take me upstairs and fuck my brains out, big boy,” she giggled. Rey’s freckles turned ruddy at the crude words and she would’ve made to escape had Bazine not chosen to pass out right that second. 

  
  


Ben tutted. “Could you help me take her to her bed? Poor girl partied too hard.” 

  
  


Rey stayed in place. “Looks like you can do just fine on your own,” she mumbled, the ease with which Ben supported her apparent. She wanted nowhere near such casual strength. The man grinned before scooping Bazine up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “That’s true,” he replied, squeezing her on the rump and making Rey look away before starting for the stairs. A begrudging sense of responsibility spurred Rey to follow. She wasn’t about to let him be alone with an unconscious woman while she was around. 

  
  


_ But who will protect you, Rey? _

  
  


I’ll take care of myself, Rey thought. Like I always have. When they reached Bazine’s bed Ben laid her down, stripping off her shoes then reaching for the zipper on her jacket. “Benny,” Bazine groaned, shifting restlessly as if to nuzzle him but instead fell deeper into her drunken stupor. 

  
  


Resentment mounted in Rey as she watched him attend to her foster sister with diligent hands. Hands that she imagined hours earlier had rifled through her laundry, coveted her precious memories, left their sordid scent on her clothes and her sheets and pillow. “Have you two been out all day?” she blurted. “Or were you just here for the morning when you were fooling around?” 

  
  


Slowly Ben straightened, withdrawing from Bazine to give her his full attention. “Oh, we’ve been in and out,” he shrugged, the roll of his shoulders like the indolent ripple of sleek muscle on a lumbering tiger’s back. “Doing all sorts of things.”

  
  


“Have you been up here at all?” Dammit she was being too obvious, but the words were already out. The chatoyant glint of his eyes shifted and above them the austere brow ridge lifted in a look of wry incredulity. “Up here?” He gestured around the bedroom. “Of course I have. I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.” 

  
  


Crimson bathed Rey’s cheeks and she crossed her arms in embarrassment, feeling self consciously a teenager. “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted to know if you’ve seen the whole house.”

  
  


“Are you offering me a tour?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


He smiled. “That’s fine. I don’t need one.”

  
  


Was he implying that he had been everywhere, including her room? It was hard to tell. As expressive as his features were there was a masked quality to them that Rey couldn’t quite penetrate. The same was true for him physically. His strength was evident but curbed, like he was holding himself on a leash. Even now, at rest, he reminded her of a couchant cat, still and placid but for the watchful gaze and the tail a twitch. 

  
  


An awkward silence filled the space between them. Well, awkward on Rey’s end. Ben seemed perfectly content. He advanced toward the doorway where she stood and before she could stop herself she retreated warily. His lips quirked as if it all amused him, and glided past her without incident, heading for the stairs. 

  
  


“Where are you going?” she called suspiciously. “Getting a glass of water and some aspirin,” he replied without stopping. He returned a minute later with said items. Come to think of it, her paranoia fumed, how’d he guess that that they only kept the aspirin in the downstairs bathroom? When he set them on the nightstand next to the bed, he asked, “How old are you, Rey?” 

  
  


She startled. “Sixteen. Almost seventeen,” she added then winced when she realized how childish that sounded. 

  
  


“Sixteen?” he said with a sort of dark wonderment. “That’s a fun age. All those new exciting experiences on the horizon.” He smiled then, a quick neon flash of canine. “Especially for young girls.” Rey looked away. “Still,” he cocked his head, watching her, “so much confusion to navigate. It’s hard to know what you want. Friends and family are a great help in that regard.”

  
  


“I guess so,” she grumbled slowly, “but maybe some people don’t need friends or family.”

  
  


“I agree. What some people need is a firm strong hand to give them guidance and keep them disciplined.”

  
  


What was _ that _supposed to mean? “Well, thanks for helping out with Bazine,” Rey said hastily, backing out into the hallway. He followed her leisurely, shutting the door to Bazine’s behind him. “You’ll probably be wanting to go.”

  
  


“The thing about sixteen is that you’re still half a child,” he mused. “I’d feel bad leaving you here all alone. You never know what kind of weirdos lurk around here.”

  
  


“I have Bazine.”

  
  


“Your sister is hardly any protection for you now.”

  
  


“Bazine is not my sister!” she hissed. The uptight composure frayed. Every follicle of her being screamed to her get away from this man. She noticed again just how tall he was, how broad and thick the line of his shoulders was. “We’ll be fine, thank you,” she forced herself to say calmly and managed a grimace she tried to pass off as a smile. “I’m not afraid of anything around here. Besides, I like being alone.” 

  
  


The wide set corners of his full mouth twitched and then curved. “That,” Ben drawled, “is complete bullshit.” 

  
  


The comment was blunt and challenging and just like that the facade of fraudulent casualty cracked. “What?” she quivered, going quite pale. 

  
  


An eagerness entered his eyes, darkling bright, but his pitch was almost mellow, the boom subdued to a reverberant murmur. “I know you. You come home everyday, you hole yourself up in your little rabbit den, telling yourself it's alright that no one cares if you come or go. You’ve been coming and going your whole life. At night you’re so desperate for sleep, you imagine an island. A far off place with a wonderful family that doesn’t exist. I see it, I understand,” he rushed to soothe. “After all the best you can manage for a real family is an old dead woman you probably didn’t even know for very long.” 

  
  


Rey’s respiration came in short quick heaves. “You-You’ve been in my room, haven’t you?” she hissed. Seeping certainty settled in her clammy extremities, the heat leeching to her heart where it pumped madly. It was as much an accusation as a genuine question she wanted answered.

  
  


Ben considered her thoughtfully. He didn’t advance toward her but she stepped back nonetheless, his opaque gaze enough to make her feel cornered. “Don’t deny it,” she hissed, searching him for signs of guilt. His expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I know it was you!” How else would he know about Maz? How else would he be so certain of her...

  
  


He considered her. “I’ve been out with your lovely sister all day.”

  
  


“Don’t lie!” she shrilled. “I know someone was in there and it couldn’t have been anyone else! Stuff has been moved, touched, gone missing…”

  
  


“Touched? Gone missing?” he repeated quietly, this time moving closer till he had backed her against the wall. “Such as…?”

  
  


Rey pinkened. “You _ know _what I’m talking about.”

  
  


“Say it,” he prompted, eyes feasting on her discomfort. “Go on, say it.” 

  
  


What was she supposed to do? Yell about how he stole her panties? By the way he was looking at her she bet he’d like that, forcing that humiliating information from her, only to deny her claim and laugh in her face. But she knew it was him. 

  
  


He moved closer to her, not stopping until he was so near that she could discern the very scent of him, the same scent that was on her nightie. Rey refused to budge but the consequence was that she had to crane her neck to meet his moonshadow eyes. “What,” he murmured, flicking up and down skinny her frame, “could you possibly have that Baz isn’t already giving me? Hm? Why would I take from you when I’ve got all the ass and pussy I need in there?” he jerked his head at Bazine’s room.

  
  


The crude words made her cringe back and her cheeks blaze. Rey was never one to despair over her appearance but around Ben her body seemed to take on a mysterious significance. Like she was a sacrifice to a hungry god who would judge whether her coltish legs, slight hips, and adolescent plump of her face with its fine milled freckles was sufficient for its monstrous appetite. 

  
  


His speckled face loomed over her like a starry expanse. She had thought him ugly when she first met him but now that his looks had time to settle with her she could appreciate a discordant harmony in his steep features that made it hard for her to look away. The sanguine pout of his lips contrasted with his black hair, probably softer than her own...yet just yesterday he had petted her coarse locks like they were the most fascinating work of art in the world. 

  
  


“Get out,” she whispered, feeling a curious loss of control. She didn’t realize she was shaking until Ben’s hands engulfed her shoulders and slid slowly down in a shivery stroke. Her breath hitched.

  
  


“Then again,” he purred, “I haven’t really seen all you’ve got to offer.” He slid his hands up again then down, each time sowing little sparks of electricity in their wake that warmed her. The skin he touched softened as if to better receive his caresses and allow his heat to penetrate past the surface, right to her very core. “You know what I think?” he leaned forward, esurient mouth at her ear. “I think you _ want _ me to _ take _. It’s what you need. It’s what you deserve.”

  
  


Rey’s mind and body were in chaos, the cold blood-draining sweat of palms matched only by the damp zing that settled heavy in her hips. As if the adrenaline had redirected her blood there, where it bloomed like a stain. “Screw you,” she spat. “You don’t know anything about me!”

  
  


“But I do,” he murmured, so close his breath bathed her. “I know you better than anyone, Rey.”

  
  


“Get out!” she screamed, shaking loose from his grip. For a moment she feared he wouldn’t let her go. Fingers met thumb around her lithe arms and for a second he tightened his grip. His nose searched out her hair and he inhaled. Then he released his hold. Her breath returned painfully.

  
  


“Get out,” she repeated, backing up before turning tail and fleeing for safety, for sanctuary. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom she turned to face him. “Get out of my home or I’ll call the cops! And don’t you dare ever come back, you - you pervert!”

  
  


Hands in his pockets, Ben observed her, unfathomable and unknowable. She was about to slam the door shut - and lock it for good measure - when he spoke. “Rey.” Against better instinct she paused. 

  
  


“You know I can take whatever I want.”

* * *

Sleep was slow going and fitful. After Ben had left, casually descending the stairs and exited the house without another word, she had run down and locked the door after him. Sprawled on her bed she waited for exhaustion to overwhelm her but she didn’t tire. Instead she ached. Not just with loneliness. She was habituated to those pangs, though they never lost their sting. Something else, almost physical, that she couldn’t locate. But it flared at the memory of broad shoulders and penetrative eyes, at big hands sliding electrically on her lissome arms, setting nerves afire and leaving her burnt. 

  
  


After several hours she was on the verge of sleep when it happened. Drowsy gave way to frozen, and with a mental groan Rey tried to settle into the stillness. Sleep paralysis could happen when falling asleep or when waking up and she hated it when it was the former since it kept her from much needed rest.

  
  


Almost a minute passed and to her relief no figure appeared, no sense of an evil presence assailed her, no sense of anyone in the room at all but herself. Pressure was beginning to build at the back of her head though, lightly at first, so light in fact that she ignored it, but the gathering density caused dancing lights to dot her vision and a splitting ache to dash her brow. “Ow,” she managed aloud. It felt like something intruding on her brain. She blinked rapidly, then gasped when the pain increased to a breaking point. 

  
  


Instinctively brought a hand to soothe her aching temple and then paused in amazement. She was moving somehow. Paralysis usually lasted several minutes for her. Confused, she attempted to rub the blotches that painted the underside of her lids. Slowly the pain began to ease yet a heaviness remained, a malignant tumor.

  
  


A presence.

  
  


Rey’s eyes flew open as the realization hit her with the force of a prophetic revelation. She wasn’t alone. There was someone…

  
  


** _“...inside you._ **

  
  


A whimper escaped and she would have scrambled upright - if her body still heeded her. She was frozen again but it was not a neurological misfiring that held her captive. It was something in her mind.

  
  


She winced as the pain in her head rose and then fell. All sound evacuated suddenly from the room and, as if arising from watery depths, a sonorous voice spoke and the pain cleared. “**Poor sweet** ,” it murmured - no _ he _ murmured. That timbre, that depth was as unmistakably as male as the moans that had floated through from Bazine’s boudoir yesterday. “ **It always hurts the first time. Or the first couple of times.” ** A chuckle. “ **It may always hurt a little with me.”**

  
  


“What the fuck?” she whispered.

  
  


It was as if sound was sucked from the very room, leaving a tight airless space in which only she and the voice existed. Her body was still not her own but to her surprise her tongue still obeyed her command. “I don’t understand,” she sobbed. 

  
  


The thing in her brain shifted like it had actual density. A tumor of another being keeping her company. “**Isn’t a little company what you want?”**

  
  


“It’s a dream,” she whispered. Never had the sleep paralysis rendered her a hostage in this way, her very soul imbricated with another presence, not from around but from within. **“The island is a dream. I am your reality.”**

  
  


Rey gasped, the image of a figure, a familiar resinous scent, emerging with startling clarity. “Ben?” she cried. The recognition was abrupt and devastating and suddenly she was sure that the creature who haunted her at night visited her by day. It was a wild fantastical leap. _ You’re hallucinating _ , a rational but shrinking part of her protested. _ It’s the sleep paralysis. It’s not him. _

  
  


**“Not Ben,”** the daemon scolded sternly. **“That’s the name of a dead mortal. I am called Kylo Ren.”**

  
  


“It’s you isn’t?” She couldn’t speak above a whisper. “All along.” Before she knew it tears watered her hot cheeks. “What are you?” 

  
  


**“You mortals have many names for us. A demon. A fallen angel. A spirit, a vampire -”**

  
  


“A monster,” she breathed. A pause, as if the thing called Kylo is considering it. ‘**Yes,” ** he agreed, sounding pleased. ** “A monster. But a monster that can keep you safe from other monsters.”**

  
  


Suddenly her hands were moving and her knees drawing up to prop her bottom half, like puppet limbs on a string. Vainly she struggled, willed the muscles and ligaments to tense and retract but the struggle was futile. Rey’s last gleam of hope - that it was all a hallucination, an unusually vivid episode of the normal night terrors - left her. “Stop! What are you doing?” she sobbed, understanding that it was he, Kylo Ren who was making her move this way. Shivers erupted as her hand lightly traced the vulnerable pipe of her neck while the other snuck under her oversized T-shirt to caress the incurve of her young waist. She had never touched herself thus - like she was some sleek and soft creature to be explored and indulged, and her body felt strangely sensitive to her own hands. 

  
  


Her hand crept from her waist, trailing along the cove of her belly. Ascending further up the shivers having traveled onto the small mounds, her nipples tightened, poking against her shirt. The shifting cloth brushing on the points made her gasp.The other hand tiptoed down the neck and her winged collarbone to join the other in tracing the curve of her breasts. 

  
  


**“So Sensitive.” ** Kylo Ren murmured from within. Excitement colored the deep voice. “ **Stubborn girls like you always turn into such writhing, helpless creatures as soon as anyone lays a finger on them.” **Rey tried to respond but then her own fingers were now tracing the sensitive peak. With a delicate pinch to the raspberry nub, an electric bolt lit down her body, evoking a jolt and confused moan. One hand followed the lightning path down, rubbing circles above the loose band of her shorts. 

  
  


Her breasts suddenly felt plumped and heavy, like they needed tending and were eager to receive it and a warmth had settled between her thighs. “**Has anyone laid their fingers on you, Rey?”** Rey couldn’t answer, the utter craziness of the situation muddying her ability to think. “**Well?”**

  
  


The hand lavishing her breast turned into a suffocating hold that smooshed the globe of soft flesh in a vice. The other dove past her shorts and over her underwear, gripping her groin in an equally painful way that made her shriek. Kylo’s voice, suddenly, darker and more menacing. “** _Answer me, _ ** he growled. “ ** _Has. Anyone. Ever. Touched. You.”_ ** Each word punctuated by a tightening squeeze on her breast, on her frail girlhood. “No!” Rey cried, “No one’s ever t-touched me! Now stop!” 

  
  


There was a beat in which loud breathing echoed the silence, along with her pathetic whimper. The mighty l. In her mind’s eye Rey could almost see the heave of Ben’s brutish chest, could picture the powerful flair of nostrils, the hooded eyes aflame. 

  
  


He was calming himself down. 

  
  


He allowed the hands mangling the young girl’s breast and sex to release. “**That’s a good girl,”** he praised, as he conducted her to rub over the top of her underwear, in a perverse soothe-the-hurt-away gesture. “**I knew you weren’t a loose slattern like that whore sister of yours.”**

  
  


He gave her little time to ponder on the outburst. The sensual rubbing intensified, the vague swipes of her digits pressing harder, as if excavating for something precious and hidden, and she felt her thighs open, eager and tingling. Her thumb alighted on her mouth, catching on the bottom lip and pressing inward so that her lips parted and swelled around its indent like putty. An inexplicable urge to tongue the pad of her thumb, to stick her fingers in her mouth and suck them wetted her with excitement. 

  
  


For the first time it occurred to Rey that the desire had not originated from her. A fierce, deep hunger emanated from the monster within, the chord that tethered him to her vibrating, fraught and greedy. The sensation was simultaneously her own but not hers, the limbs that feed her feeling the extension and noxious root of another’s pleasure.

  
  


The heat had grown hot and liquid, the tingling into throbbing. **“You’ve rarely done this before, have you?”** he leered. “**Touched yourself?”** Rey didn’t respond. That was alright. He didn’t need her too. It was rather nice to have this pretty kitten, her woodland brown hair spread wild on the pillow, sweat bathed brow furrowed in distress and pink mouth agape, so shocked, so overcome that only the the wetness between her thighs could answer for her.

  
  


By his command her hand drew up again and down the elastic band of her panties. “Wait!” she groaned in despair. “Please, Ben - Kylo Ren, don’t!” A growl echoed in her head at the entreaty, one of immense satisfaction, no reprieve forthcoming. The last barrier between her and utter chaos breached. Renewed protest spurred her to struggle but no matter how she pulled and grunted and wished nothing stopped the inexorable march of her dainty fingers onto her venus mons. “Get out of me!”

  
  


**“I’m not in you yet, sweetheart.” **She - _he _\- stopped amidst the tangle of her pubes, petting the wiry hairs with a relish. **“You don’t shave,”** Kylo Ren commented. It was a blunt observation, one made without disgust, yet it was its very bluntness that caused her the most shame. Such a matter of fact statement, embarrassing in both how private and awkwardly mundane truth. It’s not like she had ever had reason to shave and besides she was afraid of what a razor could do to her down there. 

  
  


**“Oh, poor little bunny is embarrassed,”** cooed Kylo, delight clear in his tone and his strokes. **“Don’t worry, when I make you mine I’ll shave your sweet quim for you. Or not. I’m partial either way. I like seeing a smooth young cunt getting split open by me just as much as I like seeing my cum dripping in those tangled pussy hairs. My cock can ruin you more than any blade ever could.”**

  
  


Never before had Rey wanted to disappear more than then. If she could she would’ve covered her face and curled into a ball to hide from.The words made her feel lower than dirt, scareder than a prisoner at the guillotine - yet in the same sweep made her hotter than a geyser reaching boiling point. But she did not have time to contemplate his violent promise nor understand the paradoxical surge of clenching arousal that flooded the low planes of her belly at the description of it, for her fingers were traipsing the tight line of her sex. The trace turned to a massage that made her hips wriggle and her head thrust back at the sparks it ignited.

  
  


“Oh god,” she swore. The tears had long since dried, overtaken by the exquisite tide 

  
  


Kylo concentrated his efforts near the top of her cleft, pressing harder for her clit, a spot she’d always shied away from. She knew from health class how good it was supposed to feel to touch it but the couple of times she tried it was too much. As if on cue Kylo had her part her petals and peel back the hood and rub the unprotected bulb. Rey cried out in near agony; the sensation was akin to bare skin contact on an eyeball, livid and jarring. “Don’t do that!” she howled struggling again to pull back. **“Too much? Every cunt is different.”**

  
  


“Don’t,” she pleaded, hating her own helplessness. “Don’t.”

A moment later he retracted from the naked bulb, rubbing it through her hood instead, around rather than strictly on top of it. 

  
  


Her cry softened as the glorious throbbing returned. Hips began to move, and unknown muscles came alive, coiling and snaking their tentacles down to the sodden convex whose inner walls tightened as if in feverish search of something. When she shifted she felt the wet need that had gathered and dripped down her ass in preparation. Preparation for what she wasn’t sure, but her body seemed to know. Slapping a hand over mouth Rey stifled a half moan, half sob. 

  
  


Kylo Ren laughed softly, forced her to increase the twanging manipulation of her core till her whole body hummed and sputtered. **“Uh uh,” ** he tsked. “ **You’re getting nothing inside you yet. I’m saving that for when I fuck you. I want to have you at your tightest and tenderest.” **His voice dropped an octave in the last sentence, revealing his lust and spiking her pleasure unexpectedly higher. She was reduced to sensation. Everything was a stimulant. 

  
  


The playful strokes on her clit growing faster, harder; her hand which had strayed from covering her mouth so that she could caress her thigh, her hip, her waist elongated and sinewy from her writhing contortions; the reverberation of Kylo’s voice as he urged her on - ** _“That’s my girl, you’re almost there, obey me, don’t resist, soon you’ll be begging for me to fuck you into the ground” _ **\- strained and loaded like he too was climbing with her. The greediness in his tone obvious. 

  
  


Rey resisted nonetheless. “Oh god,” she sobbed. _ No, no please no. _It was like she was on the verge of some great discovery. That all she had to do was make the exquisite journey to the top of a golden peak and there it would be. The last leap toward the wonderful. She screwed her eyes shut as if she could ward off the thing, but it kept coming. Her mouth parted in an O, head thrown back as the pulsing wet pleasure intensified. A line of drool had trickled down her cheek, her mind mushy and tongue incoherent.

  
  


She must’ve made quite the picture. She knew because Kylo Ren whispered his praise unerringly. “**Oh look at you, you’re loving this. You’re my little cockslut and I’m the one who’s going to break you in. So wet. So sweet. Come on baby girl, you’re almost there.** ** _ Cum!” _ **he ordered.

  
  


She tried to respond but only a gurgle left her. Surroundings whited out as she finally reached the mountaintop, the precipice of jagged pleasure where a fantastic world lay before her. She swayed at the peak before casting herself, with the wild abandon of a death wish, off the edge and into the ecstatic unknown. The wave hit abruptly and a frantic mindless drive made her hips hump the air rhythmically as her orgasm crashed through her. The coiled muscles snapped into ferocious release and sent her sopping channel into frenzied spasms. It was as if all her being, every nerve laid bare, was concentrated within the wet rush of cum and the canting of her hips seeking even _ more _. 

  
  


Jolt after jolt electrocuted her virgin pussy. “Ngh!” was all she could utter as her eyes rolled back and her body seized. Kylo Ren echoed her noises with his own low grunts and heavy breathing. **“Mm yesss, good girl, good dirty little girl!”**. Never had she felt like this before: like the onset of a dire need just at the moment of fulfillment. Her limbs jerked, her mind vacant but for the weight of one all-domineering presence that seeded her down to her roots. Like fertilizer. Like a man’s cum.

  
  


The manual manipulations became too much and she snatched her hand away. The pleasure tipped and began its descent. Until at last she hit bottom. Aftershocks of diminishing intensity still rippled out and the panting dissipated to whimpers and sighs. 

  
  


Finally the raw bliss settled. alongside it as slow molasses tiredness encroached. She felt heavy and worn. Sleep, which had alluded her earlier, beckoned welcomingly. Everything was warm and vibrant and fine. Even the sticky mess in her panties that had begun to cool was fine and dandy. Exhaustion had overtaken her so completely that she didn’t even notice that her mental companion was no longer taking up residence. The last thing she was vaguely conscious of someone petting her head with a gentle surety that bordered on possession. “Sleep well, little rabbit. You have nothing to fear now but me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This little baby will probably 3 chapters max. I'll try to have the next one out ASAP, my concentration levels and work permitting. In the meantime thanks for reading and please kudos, comment and bookmark! It'll really motivate me :D


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